


Lighting the Way

by enigmaticblue



Category: Eureka
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:05:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A disgruntled employee makes life difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lighting the Way

Jack groaned, blinking into the darkness.

 

“Jack?” Hands gripped his shoulders. “You okay?”

 

“My head hurts,” he admitted, recognizing Stark’s voice. “Why is it dark in here? Is it supposed to be?”

 

“White found a way to disrupt the power to this section of Global,” Stark replied. Jack felt Stark move away, and he sat up slowly. “Stay put,” Stark ordered him.

 

Jack decided to stay seated, draping his arms over his knees. He told himself that he wasn’t following orders, but that his head hurt too much to move. “Have you tried to call for help?”

 

“I’m not getting a signal.” Stark cursed. “And he sealed the fucking door.”

 

Jack held back a sigh. Being trapped with Stark was bad enough, but being trapped with Stark while he had a concussion? Jack wondered who he’d pissed off now.

 

There was a crash to Jack’s right, and Stark swore using language that would have impressed a sailor. “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m trying to find a light source, Sheriff.”

 

Jack let his head loll forward; it ached abominably, and judging from the sticky warmth he felt as he poked gently at the sorest spot, he was bleeding, too. Great. At least, judging by his explorations, it wasn’t bleeding much.

 

“Ah.” Stark’s muttered curses died off, and a small light flickered on. “I found a flashlight.”

 

Jack felt at his belt and pulled out his flashlight, turning it on. “Like this one?”

 

Nathan’s glare was apparent in the narrow beam of light. “You couldn’t have mentioned this before?”

 

“I think I have a concussion,” Jack replied, wanting to excuse his lapse, but also unable to find another reason that he was seeing two Starks.

 

“Shit.” Stark knelt in front of him and shined the light straight into Jack’s eyes.

 

Jack jerked back, then found his head held steady by Stark’s grip on his chin. “What the fuck, Stark?”

 

“Language, Sheriff.”

 

“You’re one to talk,” Jack shot back. “Your language a few seconds ago was certainly not for tender ears.”

 

“Are you kidding me? ‘Tender ears?’ Who says that?” The light flicked back and forth between Jack’s eyes.

 

“I do. And my dad didn’t even have that kind of potty mouth,” Jack shot back.

 

Stark finally released him. “You have a concussion.”

 

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Jack replied, making sure that his voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve had a few head injuries, Stark. I know what a concussion feels like.”

 

Stark smirked, sitting down on the floor next to Jack, long legs stretched out in front of him. “That would explain a lot.”

 

“What the hell was White doing down here with a gun?” Jack asked, changing the subject. He’d learned the hard way that he was usually on the losing end of his verbal battles with Stark. With his head pounding the way it was, Jack even wasn’t going to get any pleasure from sparring with the scientist.

 

“I believe he was trying to threaten me into changing Thorne’s mind about letting him go,” Stark replied conversationally.

 

Jack snorted. “What made him think that you could change Thorne’s mind?”

 

“I _am_ the Director of Research,” Stark replied, stung. “If I could convince her that his employment was key to a money-making project, he could stay.”

 

“And was he?”

 

“No, and I told him so. That’s why he was so upset.”

 

In the silence that followed, Jack felt his eyelids drooping until Stark tapped his cheek gently. “I need you to stay awake, Sheriff.”

 

“Sorry.” Jack blinked, trying to sort out the dual Starks from the darkness. “Don’t know that I can.”

 

“Okay, give me your flashlight,” Stark ordered, reaching for it.

 

Jack hid the light behind his back. “What? Why?”

 

“Because it’s bigger than mine,” Stark began.

 

Jack grinned broadly.

 

“Don’t say it,” Stark snapped before rephrasing. “Because it will give more light, and I need to find a first aid kit.”

 

“So, you do care,” Jack said, handing over the light.

 

“Allison would probably kill me if I let you die.” Stark rose and began searching for a first aid kit.

 

Jack let out a bark of laughter. “Wouldn’t want my death to be the thing that came between the two of you.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Stark demanded, finally locating the first aid kit in a cupboard under one of the counters.

 

“You and Allison?” Jack prompted.

 

Stark sighed. “I’m not discussing this with you.” He knelt on the floor next to Jack and began unpacking the kit. “Hold still.”

 

Jack winced as Stark cleaned out the cut on his right temple, but he didn’t move. He still couldn’t believe that he hadn’t seen the aging, pot-bellied scientist coming. Jack was already trying to come up with a story to tell Jo, because if she knew the truth, she’d never let him live it down.

 

“Trouble with Allison?”

 

“I said, I’m not talking to you about this. Why do you want to know?”

 

“I’m not supposed to go to sleep, right? I’m making conversation.”

 

Stark’s fingers were curiously gentle as he finished swabbing out the cut and taping gauze over the wound. “You’re lucky he didn’t crack your skull.”

 

“I don’t know. It hurts like hell.”

 

“How’s your vision now?”

 

“Still seeing two of you,” Jack replied. “Which is pretty much my worst nightmare.”

 

“Very funny, Carter.” Stark closed up the first aid kit and settled back down next to him. “Allison will have figured out that White sabotaged this area of Global by now. It won’t be long before we’re out of here.”

 

“Good.” Jack felt his eyes close again, and he couldn’t fight it. Bickering with Stark woke him up, but the comfortable silence—

 

“Sheriff!” Stark barked. “Jack, you have to stay awake.”

 

“I’m trying,” he groaned.

 

Stark sighed. “Since you asked, I proposed to Allison, and she turned me down.”

 

Jack felt an unexpected, and unwanted, bolt of sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

Jack paused, then chuckled. “No, I’m really not.”

 

There was no way he was going to tell Nathan _why_ he wasn’t sorry—the real reason, anyway. Granted, he had a crush on Allison, and he’d happily pursue her, but Nathan was the one he’d been fantasizing about ever since that night they’d spent trying to rescue her and Kevin.

 

The lights blinked twice before coming on, and the fluorescents overhead cause Jack to groan and squeeze his eyelids shut. The bright light redoubled the pounding in his head, and Jack swallowed down his nausea. He sensed Stark moving away from him and heard the door slide open. Stark was speaking to someone, probably on his cell phone, and he returned to Jack’s side a moment later.

 

“Just hang on. I already called Allison, and medical is on the way.”

 

“White?” Jack managed once he was certain he could keep his lunch where it belonged.

 

“Jo got him.”

 

Stark was soon helping him onto a gurney, Jack unwillingly opening his eyes for the few seconds it took to lie back down.

 

“Get him to the infirmary,” Stark ordered. “I’ll see you later, Jack.”

 

Jack kept his eyes closed; the movement of the gurney and the occasional bumps on the floor made him feel even more nauseated than he had been already. He focused on not being sick and not passing out.

 

It wasn’t until much later, after all the tests when Jack was comfortably ensconced in one of the beds in the GD infirmary, that he realized that Stark had called him by his first name. Several times.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder what that meant.

 

~~~~~

 

Nathan made certain to stay away from the infirmary while Carter was there. The hell of it was that he cared about the man. Somewhere in between their sniping and put-downs, he’d actually come to _care_ for the sheriff.

 

He found that disconcerting, as well as irritating. Carter wasn’t his type; they had been competing for Allison’s attention for months now. Actually caring for Carter hadn’t been part of the plan.

 

Allison knocked briefly on the door to his office before entering, startling Nathan out of his thoughts. “I thought I’d let you know that Carter has been released from the infirmary, and he’s going to be fine. Zoe’s driving him home.”

 

“Great.” He tried to keep all relief out of his voice, to sound as disinterested as possible.

 

She smiled as though she knew his thoughts, and Nathan wouldn’t put it past her. Allison always had been able to read his mind. “You want to tell me what Carter was doing down in that section?”

 

“I have no idea,” Nathan replied coolly. “One minute, White was pleading with me for his job back, and the next Carter shows up and White clubs him with a gun. I thought maybe you’d sent Carter down.”

 

Allison shook her head. “It looks like you took good care of him. Thankfully, Carter’s skull wasn’t fractured, and while he has a concussion, he should be fine in a few days.”

 

“I always knew he had a hard head,” Nathan joked, trying to deflect her searching gaze.

 

Allison raised one perfect eyebrow. “He’s not the only one.”

 

“I’m hurt,” he claimed, placing a hand over his heart.

 

She just shook her head. “Go home, Nathan. It’s getting late, and you’ve had a long day.”

 

“Just as soon as I finish up this report.”

 

For a moment, Nathan thought she would argue with him, but instead she shook her head and rose from her seat. “Good night.”

 

“Tell Kevin I said hello,” Nathan called after her, and she nodded and waved at him over her shoulder.

 

He knew her routine like the back of his hand; being married to a person did that. Allison would go home, slip out of her heels, eat a quick dinner and focus all of her attention on Kevin for the rest of the evening, trying to squeeze in all the quality time she could.

 

Looking back, Nathan wondered if that wasn’t one of the reasons their marriage had ended; they had both been so focused on their work and Kevin that when the chance for a promotion came up, Nathan had taken it, even though it had meant a move to D.C. With the clarity of hindsight, Nathan suspected he’d known deep down that his decision had been the beginning of the end. At the time, however, Nathan had told himself and Allison that a long distance relationship was feasible.

 

When he had proposed a second time, he’d believed she’d say yes. They had both changed, and he thought he’d proven his commitment to her and to Kevin. Proposing had been a calculated risk, and Nathan had calculated the chance of Allison saying no as being small.

 

He’d been wrong. It didn’t happen often, and he hated when it did happen.

 

But in the wake of Allison’s refusal, Nathan had found his attraction to Carter growing stronger. It was as though with Allison out of the running, all of Nathan’s attention had been redirected to Jack, whether he wanted it to or not.

 

And Nathan really had to remember not to call the sheriff by his first name—he wasn’t ready for Carter to know about his feelings. Nathan wasn’t sure that he’d ever be ready for Carter to know.

 

Nathan tried to shake all thoughts of Carter, but the other man had landed a starring role in his dreams. Jerking off in the shower the next morning was completely unsatisfactory; thoughts of Jack, of touching him, of taking care of him, pushed Nathan over the edge, but Nathan wanted the real thing.

 

 It probably wasn’t a surprise that he was in a bad mood by the time he arrived at Global.

 

The day went downhill from there. Everything he touched seemed to go wrong—Fargo accidentally crashed one of the computers monitoring an important experiment; the backers he most needed funding from were impervious to his charms; three of his scientists were behind schedule on Department of Defense contracts. His foul mood grew fouler as the day went on until Allison finally ordered him to go home.

 

“Get some sleep, drink a glass of wine, have a meal, I don’t care, Nathan!” she burst out when he tried to pick a fight with her. “Whatever is bothering you, deal with it, and don’t come back until you do.”

 

Nathan left, if only because he knew Allison wasn’t above calling security to haul him out of the building if she felt it necessary. He stopped by Café Diem, deciding to order take-out before heading home. Maybe once he had a decent meal, he’d feel better, Nathan mused. He hadn’t eaten anything other than a stale pastry from one of the lounges mid-morning.

 

“Whatever you’ve got on special tonight, Vince, to go,” Nathan ordered, adding as an afterthought, “Please.”

 

Vincent gave him a sharp look, probably seeing more than Nathan wanted him to. “I think I know just the thing, Dr. Stark.” He glanced over Nathan’s shoulder. “Hi, Sheriff! I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

 

“Much better, thanks.” Jack settled on one of the stools. He was out of uniform, dressed in worn jeans and a threadbare t-shirt that showed off lean, taut muscles. Nathan was grateful that his suit jacket hid his reaction.

 

“Can I get a cheeseburger and fries, Vince?” Jack called.

 

“Coming right up, Sheriff.” Vincent disappeared into the kitchen, and Jack shifted to look at Nathan.

 

“Dr. Stark.” Jack greeted him with a smile that held a hint of something Nathan couldn’t quantify. It made him nervous. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you.”

 

“No thanks necessary, Sheriff.” Nathan tried to ensure that his tone was brusque, giving Carter no hint that his feelings were other than professional.

 

“Still.” Jack shifted one stool over, closer to Nathan. “I appreciate it.”

 

Nathan wondered if he could move farther away without being obvious about it. “You would have done the same for me.”

 

“Probably.” Jack’s grin was full of mischief. “Have to protect that big brain of yours, right?”

 

Nathan cleared his throat, feeling unaccountably nervous. He had the sense that Jack knew something he didn’t, and he decided that retreat was the better part of valor. “Of course. How are you feeling?”

 

“Still have a bit of a headache, but Allison gave me good drugs,” Jack replied easily. “You?”

 

“I wasn’t the one who received a cracked skull from an aging scientist,” Nathan shot back acerbically. “I’m fine.”

 

“Grumpy, though,” Jack observed.

 

Nathan scowled and refused to look at him.

 

“Trouble in paradise?”

 

Nathan had an irrational desire to tell Jack to shut up. “Everything is fine.”

 

“Uh huh.” The silence hung between them for a long minute before Jack finally added, “You know, if you want to talk about it, I’d be happy to listen.”

 

Nathan shot him a suspicious look, but Jack had that sincere expression he wore so well; Nathan really hated that he found it endearing, rather than annoying.

 

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, taking the take-out container Vincent handed him with a grateful smile. “See you later, Carter.”

 

Nathan made a hasty retreat from Café Diem and promised himself that he was going to avoid Carter from now on, at least until he had his attraction under control.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack had developed a theory while sitting around the bunker on Allison-enforced medical leave. Namely, that Nathan Stark might not hate him quite as much as he’d previously thought.

 

After a day spent alone at the bunker, with only SARAH and various sporting events for company, Jack had half-decided to pursue Stark if given even a little encouragement. The run-in at Café Diem pushed him into embracing the idea fully. Jack prided himself on his ability to read people, and Stark’s discomfort had given Jack more evidence that Stark didn’t hate him.

 

There was just the little matter of how to approach him. Jack hated rejection as much as the next guy, and he wanted to feel Stark out carefully.

 

Jack also wanted to keep Stark off-balance, because that would be fun.

 

Mindful of his plan, Jack took an extra Vinspresso with him the next time he was called up to Global. Stark was right in the middle of the action, as usual, and Jack pressed the cup into Nathan’s empty hand. “What have we got?”

 

Stark stared at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “An explosion. I told Allison not to call you.”

 

Jack grinned. “Well, she did, so you’re stuck dealing with me.” Since Stark hadn’t said anything about it, he thought he’d point out the coffee. “Brought you coffee.”

 

Stark’s eyes narrowed further. “I see that. Thanks,” he added grudgingly.

 

“No problem. Gotta keep you sharp, don’t we?”

 

“Do you have some reason to be here? Still?” Nathan asked, sounding a little desperate.

 

Jack shook his head. “No, but I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

 

“I do.”

 

Stark strode off, leaving Jack to sip his own coffee and plan his next move.

 

Over the course of the next week, Jack made it his mission in life to show up wherever Stark happened to be. He slid into the chair across from Stark while he ate dinner at Café Diem, or onto the stool next to him. Stark seemed to regain some of his equilibrium on the fourth run-in.

 

“I’ve been seeing quite a bit of you recently,” Stark observed, taking a sip of his wine.

 

Jack waved Vincent over. “Could I get a beer, Vince?”

 

“Did I invite you to stay?” Stark asked.

 

“Just being friendly,” Jack replied.

 

Vincent looked from Stark to Jack and back again, then seemed to come to a decision. “Would you like something to eat?”

 

Jack peered over at Stark’s plate. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, but he suspected that he could keep Stark more off-balance if he _didn’t_ order his usual. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

 

“Of course, Sheriff.”

 

Jack leaned back in his seat. “How’s it going?”

 

Stark stared at him, and Jack could see the debate going on behind his eyes. “Quite well. I was able to secure funding for an important project.”

 

“Is this going to cause another explosion?” Jack asked, unable to resist the opportunity to needle the other man.

 

“The project involves theoretical physics. The chances for an explosion are small.”

 

“More big bang stuff?” Jack asked.

 

Stark raised his eyebrows. “How did you know?”

 

“I pay attention,” Jack replied evenly.

 

Stark frowned slightly, and went back to his meal.

 

Jack kept his mouth shut. He’d learned any number of interrogation techniques over the years, and he knew how to let the silence speak for him.

 

“Was there something you wanted?” Stark finally asked.

 

Jack smirked. “I want all kinds of things, Nathan.”

 

He would have missed Stark’s reaction if he hadn’t been looking for it. Nathan’s eyes widened slightly, as though surprised. “Ever get any of them?”

 

“Jury’s still out on my latest project.” Jack purposely kept his face expressionless.

 

Stark’s green eyes were sharp; he was looking at Jack the way he might one of his pet experiments. “I see.”

 

Jack looked up as Vincent reappeared at their table. “Osso buco with steamed vegetables,” he announced. “Here you are, Sheriff.”

 

“Thanks, Vincent.” Jack looked across the table at Stark’s plate, which was now empty. “You taking off?”

 

Stark hadn’t lost his thoughtful expression. “No, I don’t have anywhere to be.”

 

~~~~~

 

The fourth time Carter showed up and made himself cozy, Nathan began to get a clue. At first, he’d assumed that Carter was being his usual, annoyingly friendly self, and then he’d begun to wonder if there wasn’t something more to it.

 

By the time Jack had slid into the seat across from him and his half-finished osso buco, Nathan more than suspected.

 

Hell, Carter had been _flirting_ with him, blatantly, without the cover of insults and arguments. Nathan had managed to pick a fight before Jack was done eating, but the barbs that had flown between them had lacked their usual malice.

 

Nathan suspected that fighting his attraction to Carter was a losing battle, so it was time for him to take charge of the situation.

 

Two days after their impromptu dinner together, Nathan followed Jack inside Café Diem. He watched as Carter greeted Zoe and sprawled in a booth. Several of the scientists enjoying their own meals took a moment to wave at Jack, and Nathan shook his head.

 

Really, the man belonged in Mayberry, not Eureka—and why did he find those qualities so appealing?

 

“Mind if I sit?” Nathan asked as he approached Jack’s table.

 

Jack smiled. “Not at all, but I’m off the clock.”

 

“I’m not here on business.”

 

“That right?”

 

Nathan met the challenging gleam in Jack’s eyes head-on. “I have a proposal for you.”

 

“If this is about those safety permits, that’s still work-related.” Jack’s jaw had taken on that stubborn set Nathan had come to know so well. “And you’re not getting them.”

 

Nathan knew he shouldn’t allow himself to be dragged into an argument, but he couldn’t help it. “The safety protocols are well within parameters,” he insisted. “You’re being overly cautious.”

 

“Do you remember the last time an experiment went wrong?” Jack demanded.

 

He scowled. “It happens all the time here.”

 

“My point exactly.” Jack was grimly triumphant. “Maybe it’s time to take safety a little more seriously.”

 

Nathan leaned across the table, trying—and failing—to keep a tight rein on his temper. “I take it seriously. I just value the pros of taking risks more than you do.”

 

“Do you?”

 

And just like that, they weren’t talking about experiment protocols, or safety in the labs, or anything else to do with Global Dynamics.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

Jack glanced up, and Nathan belatedly realized that Vincent was hovering next to their table. He wondered how long Vincent had been there.

 

“I think I’m going to have dinner to-go tonight, Vince,” Jack said. “Just the usual, please.”

 

Vincent nodded and turned a slightly anxious expression on Nathan. “And for you, Dr. Stark?”

 

“I’ll have the same,” Nathan replied. “And I won’t be staying either.”

 

Vincent scurried away, looking like someone bent on getting away from an imminent explosion. And maybe that’s exactly what was going to happen.

 

“Going home?” Jack asked, his voice cracking a bit under the strain of appearing nonchalant.

 

“I thought I might.” Nathan hesitated. “Do you want to join me?”

 

The long silence that followed suddenly had Nathan wondering if he’d read the signs completely wrong. Maybe he’d only seen what he wanted to; he wouldn’t be the first scientist who had created data where none existed, all to satisfy a pet theory.

 

“Do you have any beer?” Jack asked, finally breaking the silence, wearing an expression Nathan couldn’t decipher.

 

“I might have a couple in the back of the fridge,” he replied. “I don’t know what kind.”

 

“I’ll make do.”

 

They waited for their dinners to arrive in awkward silence, unlike the last few times they’d spent dinner together, when conversation had flowed easily. Zoe dropped off their meals in Vincent’s to-go bags and kissed Jack’s cheek. “I’ll see you later tonight, Dad.”

 

It was almost a question, and Jack replied, “I’ll call if I’m going to be late, Zo.”

 

Zoe gave Jack a sharp look, then turned to Nathan; he could read the warning in her eyes clearly: “Hurt him, and I will hurt you.”

 

Nathan drove to his house, Jack following him in the Sheriff’s vehicle. He had no idea what he wanted to have happen once they reached his house—and then, he was pulling into his driveway, opening the garage door. Jack’s Jeep fit next to his easily; Nathan didn’t use his garage for much these days.

 

They made it inside before Nathan took control of the situation, dropping his take-out box on the floor and shoving Jack up against the door to the garage. Jack made a rather gratifying surprised noise that Nathan interpreted as a “yes,” and he kept going.

 

Jack went pliant under his hands, parting his lips to give Nathan’s tongue access, and Nathan congratulated himself on not only reading the signs right, but gaining the upper hand.

 

The smug satisfaction lasted seconds. Jack suddenly began to push back, surging under Nathan’s hands, spinning them around, trapping Nathan between the wall and his body. Jack’s hands on the back of his head, gripping his hair, kept Nathan from fighting too much.

 

Jack’s iron grip kept Nathan still, his tongue and teeth forceful and insistent. For a moment, Nathan gave in, letting Jack set the pace, knowing that he’d be able to take the lead in a minute, just as soon as Jack paused to catch his breath.

 

When Jack pulled back, they were both breathing heavily, and Nathan nudged Jack backwards. “I’ve got a bed upstairs.”

 

“What about dinner?” Jack asked hoarsely, even though he didn’t sound terribly interested in food.

 

“I have a microwave.”

 

“Okay.”

 

They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other as they stumbled up the stairs. Jack’s pupils were blown so wide his blue eyes were nearly black, and he suddenly latched on to Nathan’s neck, just below his ear. Nathan’s knees buckled under the sensation, and Jack held him up with a throaty chuckle.

 

“Where’s that bed you promised me?”

 

“First door on the right,” Nathan managed.

 

He guided them down the hall and through the door, Jack’s hands shoving Nathan’s suit jacket off his shoulders, pulling his tie free, unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were so smooth, Nathan suspected he’d done this before.

 

“This isn’t your first time,” he murmured as he fumbled at the buttons of Jack’s uniform shirt.

 

“Let me.” Jack unbuckled his gun belt, setting it carefully on the bedside table. “I’ll need to lock that up later.”

 

“Later,” Nathan confirmed.

 

“And, yeah, this isn’t my first rodeo.” Jack grinned at him, blue eyes bright and clear. “You’re not the only one who has swung a lot of stuff.”

 

“I didn’t realize you’d figured out what I’d meant.” Nathan watched hungrily as Jack dropped his uniform shirt on the floor, then pulled his brown undershirt over his head.

 

Jack glared at him mulishly. “I’m not stupid.”

 

“No, you’re not, which is really too bad.” Nathan took advantage of Jack’s moment of distraction, shoving Jack onto his back on the bed, pinning Jack’s hands to the mattress above his head.

 

“Too bad?” Jack questioned on a gasp as Nathan nipped at the skin over his jugular.

 

“If you were stupid, you wouldn’t be nearly as attractive,” Nathan confessed, using his free hand to undo the button on Jack’s pants.

 

Jack smirked. “I could say the same thing about you being so smart.” He frowned. “I’m not sure that came out the way I meant it to.”

 

“Shut up,” Nathan ordered, getting a hand around Jack’s cock, which seemed pretty effective for shutting Jack’s mouth.

 

After that, it was all about hands and mouths and tongues. They rubbed against one another shamelessly, fighting for dominance as they jerked one another off, each trying to hang on just a moment longer than the other.

 

Nathan wasn’t sure what it meant that he came first, spurting over Jack’s hand with a surprised cry, the little twisting motion Jack put into it at the end sending him over the edge. Nathan took Jack with him, though. Jack’s hips jerked helplessly under his, Nathan finally allowing himself to collapse bonelessly over Jack.

 

“Holy shit,” Jack murmured reverently after a moment.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“That was…”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“We should do that again.”

 

Nathan grunted and rolled over onto his back. “You can say that _now_?” he asked plaintively.

 

“And you can’t?” Jack needled with a grin. “Getting old, Nate?”

 

“Don’t call me that,” Nathan snapped reflexively. “And I’m only a year older than you.”

 

“A year is all it takes.”

 

Nathan huffed out a breath. “So, you want to stay awhile?”

 

“Sure.” Jack rolled his head so that he was looking at Nathan. “I was just waiting for you to catch up, scientist.”

 

Nathan’s eyes narrowed, knowing that he couldn’t allow Jack to come out ahead again. Or, really, _ever_; he’d never live it down otherwise.

 

“Maybe it’s time for me to lead awhile,” he replied, rolling over on top of Jack and pinning him to the mattress. He might need some time to recover, but he could keep Jack occupied until he was.

 

Nathan planned to come out on top—but Jack’s grin suggested that he was going to enjoy Nathan taking the lead as much as he had doing it himself.

 

And maybe that was just as it should be.


End file.
